


Twist of Fate

by aidansidhe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Incarnations of Immortality - Piers Anthony
Genre: F/M, Niobe Kaftan is Lachesis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 17:18:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21323827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aidansidhe/pseuds/aidansidhe
Summary: When the Chosen One falls, what is Fate to do?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 46





	Twist of Fate

The serenity of the misty white plane was shattered by the keening cry of the newest arrival. Glancing toward the sound, the being swiftly rose to meet the latest soul to enter their care. Their eyes widened as the white-robed figure with chestnut curls came into view, staring in shattered emptiness and giving voice to her soul’s agony. Gathering the largely insensate woman into their arms, they hasten to their superior’s domain.

“My Lady! We have a problem!” The half-panicked figure cried as they entered bearing their precious burden.

The Lady, glancing up from writing in a massive tome, sighed with strained patience, “What is it, Ithriel? Could it have waited just a bit longer? I almost finished the entries for Britain.”

Looking down, Ithriel gestured wordlessly at his now silent charge, “It’s Hermione Granger, my Lady. She arrived far ahead of schedule.”

The Lady rubbed her face, “I was expecting either her or Riddle, to be honest. Not a huge surprise after we processed Potter.”

For the first time, Hermione reacted, “H-Harry…”

The Lady gestured toward the chair opposite her desk, “Place her in the seat and you can return to your tasks. I will explain the reality of her situation personally.” She took up her quill and began scratching letters onto parchment as Ithriel departed. Dusting the page carefully to set the ink, she closed the tome. “Miss Granger, it pains me to say this, but you have met your fate and the Prophecy was fulfilled. While we hoped you would vanquish Tom Riddle, it seems it was not meant to be. Do you have any questions for me before we process you onward?”

Hermione’s head snapped upward, and her eyes grew wild, “Prophecy? Me? What are you talking about? Harry was the one destined to face Riddle, not me… He… He died…” Her eyes welled with tears only to be stopped by an impatient wave of the Lady’s hand.

“Hardly. Given the text of your prophecy, it would be rather difficult for it to be him, now wouldn’t it?”

The brunette witch’s eyes narrowed, "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..." She scoffed, “How exactly does that mean me?”

The Lady blinked repeatedly, “Beeecause that isn’t the prophecy? It’s close, but…” Her face paled, “Follow me.” She drew herself upward and hastened to the door behind her desk, Hermione rapidly following.

Hermione’s eyes widened in wonder at the elaborate tapestry of glowing thread looming massively overhead. Her pace continued however until she reached the now cursing Lady. “Ma’am?”

The Lady snarled, “That. Someone has been messing with my Tapestry.”

The witch’s eyes widened, “You are Fate?”

The Lady waggled her head from side to side impatiently, “Yes and no. Lachesis the Weaver, at your service, now hush. I need to figure…. AH! Got it! Oh, that meddling bitch… Alright. Let’s go back to my office and discuss our options. Well, options we want so I can go lean on people who owe me favors.”

Quickly ensconced once again in Lachesis’s office, Hermione watched the divine figure take several deep breaths, “Alright. So. The Actual prophecy is a lot like that one only with some MAJOR differences. Would you like to hear it?”

Hermione nodded mutely, to Fate’s satisfaction.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who would thrice defy him, born as the seven month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark her as his equal, but she will be the Sword that defends the Light... by her Guardian’s side, the Sword shall strike... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seven month dies..." Lachesis incanted, her hands folded in front of her. “So you see, it could never have been Harry, though he is mentioned.”

“He… is the Guardian? But the orb in the Hall of Prophesy… It had his name! He could touch it!”

Lachesis nodded impatiently, “Well, yes. But you never heard THAT one. He has a Destiny, but it has nothing to do with that tripe you mentioned.” Seeing her about to respond hotly, she quelled the young witch with a look, “That meddling with my tapestry? That was Tyche deciding that Fate was too orderly, so she managed to tug the one thread that needed to stay untugged. Albus Dumbledore. The man who was the last Sword of Light, a role you were to take up, was pushed from his course. The Sword dulled into a bastardized Shield. He was meant to guide you and your Guardian to fulfill your roles, not pull your strings like a puppet master.”

Hermione blinked, “Alright, saying I agree with that, logically Harry is this Guardian. What did the orb say?”

“The Guardian shall rise in defense of the Light… Through blood and darkness will he survive… Reunited with the Sword, their Light shall shine cleansing the Darkness from Albion. The Guardian shall rise in defense of the Light.”

The witch blinked in confusion, “Reunited?” She shook her head, “Putting a pin in that, how did my parents, my perfectly ordinary muggle parents defy Voldemort three times?”

Lachesis shrugged, “They left the site of three of Riddle’s attacks on Muggle London within minutes of their occurrence.”

“Wait, really? That is statistically unlikely.”

The Fate gave Hermione a deadpan look, “Not really. Fate, you know. Besides, the common factor to all three attacks were you performing accidental magic, which the corrupted Ministry passed along.”

Hermione lifted her head in faint triumph, “But the prophecy stated I would be born to those who thrice defied him. If they were attacking because of my magic, then I would have been born to those who had never defied him.”

“You’re fixating on the false version. I said ‘would thrice defy’ not ‘had thrice defied.’ Why exactly are you arguing with me on this? I’m literally the one who made the prophecy, shoved it in that moron’s head, and made her say it. It is you. Considering your Guardian disembodied him before he could try to kill you again on his way back to his lair, they only ‘defied him’ thrice.”

Hermione’s tears trailed down her face, “But what does all this matter? So what if I was the Chosen One? I’m dead now unless you can send me back?”

Lachesis sighed sadly, “Unfortunately, there are no do-overs. You met your destiny when Tom Riddle killed you-“

“Riddle didn’t kill me. Draco did under Harry’s cloak.”

“-it… What?” The Weaver ran to examine the Tapestry once more. “A loophole,” she breathed. She turned to the distressed witch. “Those favors I mentioned earlier? I WAS going to put you in a comfy place in the Afterlife with your Guardian, but I think we can arrange something a little better.”

Not wanting to get her hopes up, Hermione focused instead on their conversation, “Fair enough, you said ‘reunited.’ How were we together to BE reunited?”

Lachesis paused while flipping through a small black book, “Huh? Oh. Well, that’s actually both easy and complicated. Which version do you want first?”

Hermione blinked, “Easy, then complicated, I suppose?”

“The easy answer is Lily babysat you until shortly after Harry was born. You met him a few times before James and Lily removed themselves from your parents’ memories to protect them.” She turned back to her book and continued to flip frantically. “The complicated, well. You’re both reincarnated. Most Instruments of the Incarnations are.”

“Incarnations?”

The Weaver looked up in exasperation, “You just… Shouldn’t surprise me. I pretty much designed you, so your inquisitive nature shouldn’t be so frustrating. The Incarnations of Immortality are the seven-fold aspects of reality made flesh. Death, Time, Fate, War, Nature, Good, and Evil, although Fate is a triple-incarnation. We share a body, but since this is my domain, Clotho and Atropos are taking a nap. Before you ask, the Instruments are people we placed to see our will done on Earth.” She saw Hermione’s mouth open, “By the Weave, girl… what?!”

Hermione shrank inward a bit, “Who else? And who were we before?”

Fate rubbed her face, “I am not allowed to tell you who you were. It’s hilarious, but no.. nothin’ doing. It has no impact on anything you need to do. No magical inheritances, no hidden memories. You just had a few more spins on the ol’ wheel. As for the other Instruments, it shouldn’t be that surprising. Your Guardian is one of Zane’s. Death, I mean. You are mine, Neville is War’s, your friend Luna is…”

“Time?”

Lachesis snorted, “Hardly. She’s not a seer, just insightful. She’s Gaia’s. Go easy on her, most of the creatures she reports don’t exist yet, but they will. Parry, my poor benighted son-in-law, or Evil, picked someone just as angst-ridden as himself who was reborn as Severus Snape. Good’s hasn’t been reborn yet, so names would be meaningless. Given Time’s nature, he doesn’t use any dedicated Instruments.” She closed the book, “Right, so. I should be able to get Zane and Norton to help me move your soul backward in time and merge it with your body. Any… ONE question?” She amended quickly, seeing the oncoming onslaught of questions, snickering to herself at the slight pout on the ever-inquisitive witch’s face.

“Can you send Harry back too?”

Lachesis shook her head, “No, sadly. He fell in your defense as was a potential fate for him, so there isn’t a loophole for him to wiggle through. You can tell him things but try to keep everything else close to your chest, so to speak.” The Weaver bit her lip and hesitated, “Due to obvious reasons, namely you will be eleven again, we won’t be able to send your daughter back either.”

If she weren’t dead, Hermione’s heart would have stopped, “I… I was…”

“Pregnant? Yes. Turns out you miscast just once in the Tent, and well… once can be enough.” Seeing the anguish crushing inward upon her charge, she rushed to continue, “However, her thread will rejoin yours when the time is right once again. You will see her again and that is MY promise to you, my Instrument.”

Hermione steeled her nerves and wiped away her tears, “Well, it looks like I have even more to live for and to fight for than I thought.”

The Weaver smiled kindly, “Indeed, my dear. Now, my colleagues will be here in a moment and we can get you on your way.”

A few minutes later, the two who fell into silent contemplation glanced up as a tall man in a black cloak and a shorter but broader man in a blue cloak entered, “You needed our help, Niobe?”

ooo

September 1, 1991

Harry Potter looked up as he heard a knock on his compartment door. Sliding it open, he saw the kindest smile he had ever seen and heard words that felt like a balm to his weary soul, “Pardon me, would you mind if I joined you? It is my first year and I would very much like to make friends before arriving. My name is Hermione Granger, what’s yours?”


End file.
